


Inktober Writing 2017

by Solverne



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 18:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 20,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12587616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solverne/pseuds/Solverne
Summary: Also known as drabbles for Monachopsis. Each prompt written deals with my main story; The only chapter you have to worry about being rated higher than T is Chapter 12 - there is a warning at the beginning for it.





	1. Swift

Ena remained crouched low behind the bushes, keeping a tight grip on her bow, a finger curved around the arrow she had nocked. She breathed through her mouth, trying to keep noise down to as much of a minimum as she could. She had an earthly toned hood over her head to hide the brightness of her red hair. Her eyes, she could do nothing for. If her prey could see her eyes, clearly she was doing something wrong, anyways. She took the time to study the tracks, absorbing as much information out of them as she could. Once she was satisfied, she pressed on.

 

She’d started her tracking early that morning when the Keeper requested a hunt begin to restock the clan of food and the numerous other supplies they could gain from one. Ena immediately volunteered to help, whether it be by leading or following. As soon as she did, the other hunters scoffed at her and told her that if she really wanted to help, she would go and hunt down a druffalo alone - something that took several hunters and much skill to accomplish. She, naturally, narrowed her eyes and told them with confidence she would do it. They laughed at her and left for their own hunt.

 

It was almost as if the Creators were smiling on her. She’d found tracks belonging to a single druffalo, making slow progress. Judging by the way it walked, it appeared injured or perhaps just old. Either way, Ena was determined to take it down, especially if it was trying to catch up to a herd. She knew by the tracks and droppings that she was getting close.

 

The afternoon sun was bearing down on her, making sweat trickle down her brow and her neck. Her clothes clung to her, but they were at least still loose enough to provide her with fluid movement. She ignored it as best she could, remaining focused on the task at hand. When she caught sight of movement up ahead in the distance, she ducked out of view, her heart pounding a little heavier. She was fairly certain that was her prey she’d spotted. She waited a few moments, then peered out from behind the bolder she’d thrown herself behind, squinting against the sunlight. It was!

 

It was walking away from her. It hadn’t seen her and the wind wasn’t blowing towards it, so there was no way it could smell her. As she observed, it looked like it had a bad limp, an injured front right leg. Things were tipping in her favor. She needed to continue to be patient. The druffalo was still out of range of her arrows. When she did get in range, she needed to be swift in ending the druffalo. Injured or not, a beast like it could easily trample her or flee out of range. 

 

She trailed after it, waiting for an ample opportunity to strike. The creature hobbled along, seemingly focused on moving forward. Ena felt a bit bad for it. It may have perhaps been abandoned due to its injury, left behind to fend for itself. It was surprising a pack of wolves hadn’t descended upon it yet. A pack could easily bring it down. Ena was eager to end its suffering.

 

Finally, her time came. The druffalo headed into a small canyon with a narrow pathway. Ena could run in behind it and begin her assault. If it charged, she could scale the walls high enough. If it ran, it wasn’t like it could get far at a quick pace. Yes. It was time.

 

She kept quiet as she closed the gap between them, pulling back the arrow on the bowstring, readying herself. When she drew close enough, she gave a quick shout to get the druffalo’s attention. Its reaction was far from what she had expected. Instead of spooking and running, it turned around to face her. It didn’t charge, it didn’t bellow, it just stood still. Ena could see the white around its mouth, the fog in its eyes, and the weariness within. The beast stared at her, breathing deeply, not at all panicked. Ena faltered, lowering her bow. She needed to kill this druffalo, take its meat, hide, and bones back to the clan. She had every intention of doing so. She’d just...never come across an animal that had all but begged to be killed. This druffalo had seen many things, had been in many scuffles, and had survived many years. It had been left behind to die alone and it had pressed on since, but now...it was tired. It gazed at Ena, asking for release.

 

She looked down to her bow, then back at the druffalo. She could land a single shot on its head, one that would give it a quick, painless death. If it didn’t move, she could end it quickly for certain. She kept her golden eyes locked on the dull, grey ones of the druffalo for a few more heartbeats, silently offering for it to change its mind, give chase, and try to fight for life. It huffed softly and slid its eyes closed.

 

It was waiting.

 

Ena felt a pang of sympathy for the druffalo, but she wouldn’t keep it waiting any longer. She said a quick prayer for it, drew back on her bowstring, and let the arrow fly.


	2. Divided

Looking at the destruction and littered bodies all throughout the Hinterlands was enough to make anyone’s stomach churn. Ena abhorred the death and wasn’t looking forward to what she would have to accomplish. How was she supposed to bring this horrid war to an end? Templars and mages alike lay in the mud, in the peaceful grass, leaned up against a tree, bodies pierced by sword, axe, spear, arrow, or some kind of magic. Lips parted in shock, in agony. Eyes wide with fear and closed in passing.

 

Why did they do this? At the end of life, they were all mortal. They could be human, elf, or dwarf, but they all bled the same, felt the same pain, and all of them died. Why did they need to put up lines to divide each other and single each other out, giving them an excuse to persecute others? Even the Dalish were similar. They were of the same people, but they rarely contacted each other, losing bits and pieces of who they were with each passing year. Sure, there were differences to overcome, but why couldn’t everyone just live together?

 

That is the world Ena would like to see. Everyone, people of all races, walking through the same halls, drinking the same beverages, eating the same food, bedding with each other, traveling with each other. Much like she was doing now. She was in the company of two other elves, a dwarf, and a human. She could feel the tensions between them all, but they were cooperating and fighting alongside each other in order to survive and bring about results. 

 

Every time they fought against a group of one side or the other, Ena tried to voice reason to them. She begged for them to stop and end the senseless killing, but each side was so incredibly bloodthirsty, out for vengeance, that it seemed her words never reached their ears. Still, she tried. She tried again and again. She could see the pity in Cassandra’s eyes - a woman who had seen the brunt of all the violence and did not believe that Ena could make a difference by appealing to them with just her words, but she chose to ignore it. It may not do anything at all. That wasn’t an excuse for her not to try. If she could just get one person to see the light and stop, she would consider it a success.

 

She knew Aravae felt the same way. Ena admittedly didn’t know much about Aravae’s past, but she could tell by her actions and the way she carried herself that she had seen her fair share of battles. She also most likely didn’t see the point to Ena wasting her energy on it, but she didn’t raise any vocal objections. She just kept up her barriers to protect Ena and waited before attacking their enemies.

 

She couldn’t get a read on Solas yet. He was quiet. He didn’t typically speak without being spoken to, though he seemed eager to share his knowledge. He was also curious in the mark on Ena’s hand, investigating it whenever it flared up. He seemed...bitter about the conflict they were in, almost. He sympathized more with the mages, being one himself, but didn’t speak much yet about his stance on Templars. 

 

Varric was the most open on just about anything, compared to Ena’s other silent companions. He also saw the violence as senseless and unnecessary, but he didn’t think that they could stop them without doing anything drastic. Though he complained about a good number of things, he was still willing and able to offer his...and Bianca’s...services to Ena in order to help out. He was a strange one, that dwarf.

 

Still, with this group, and the support she had from back in Haven, Ena felt certain that things could change. Sure, their goal currently was to ultimately close the giant hole in the sky, but they could accomplish so much more along the way. They could stop the Templar-mage war, for one. Ena desperately wanted to stop them and erase the lines of division that were in place for all people and all races. She just wanted them all to live together peacefully, without reasons to judge one another.

 

She could start with them. As they spotted a group of rogue Templars in the distance, she took a deep breath and called out to them.


	3. Poison

Traveling along in the Hinterlands for as long as they did caused the group’s food stock to deplenish before they were able to make it back to any of their camps to get more. Varric was the one to moan the most about it, so Cassandra snapped at him to go and gather some berries to go along with the meat that Ena was hunting for. Aravae and Solas helped set up the camp, Aravae watching Solas carefully so that she could ensure that she was setting up the tents correctly. She’d never had to do such a thing before, but she didn’t want the others to know that. Solas was the only one who did, which only made it harder for Aravae to not snap at him when he forced down a chuckle when one of the tents she set up collapsed on itself. 

 

Cassandra returned with plenty of wood for a fire, which she began setting up. By time it was blazing and the camp was set up, Ena returned with several rabbits. She went to work skinning them and preparing them to be skewered, but Varric hadn’t returned yet. “Should we go look for him?” Solas inquired.

 

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “He cannot even find berries to eat? It’s no wonder he fussed so much leaving Kirkwall.”

 

“He doesn’t appear to be much of an outdoorsman,” Aravae commented, “though he is at least a good shot with his crossbow.”

 

“Bianca,” Ena reminded her with a sarcastic grin.

 

It was Aravae’s turn to make a disgusted noise. 

 

“Still… I suppose we  _ should _ go and look for him.” Cassandra stood, glancing about their surroundings. It was starting to get dark.

 

None other than Varric’s voice called out. “Go and look for who? This devilishly handsome rogue?” They all shifted to look at him, the dwarf carrying a sack, seemingly full of berries. “Not a bad job, if I do say so myself. Hey, Zinnia, those rabbits look tasty!”

 

“You’re never going to call me by my name, are you?” Ena asked.

 

“It’s his...thing,” Cassandra explained briefly.

 

“Except with you, Seeker. You’re special.” Varric set down the sack and plopped down onto the ground, sighing with contentment. 

 

She grunted. “I’m not certain how I should be taking that.”

 

“As a compliment, clearly.”

 

Cassandra gave Varric a look that clearly said she didn’t quite believe him. Still, it fell silent save for the crackling of the fire, everyone waiting for the rabbits to cook so that they could fill their stomachs. Aravae reached for the pouch of berries, reaching in and pulling a small handful out. She frowned, leaning more towards the light of the fire to examine them. “Varric...did you eat any of these?”

 

“Hmm? Not yet. Why?”

 

“That’s for the better.” Aravae got Ena’s attention and passed them to her for confirmation. “I’m fairly certain these are poisonous.”

 

“Yes, they are.” Ena breathed a sigh of relief. “Varric, it’s a very good thing you didn’t eat any. A couple will give you...unpleasant effects, but enough would definitely kill you!”

 

Even in the dim light, they could see how Varric paled. Cassandra all but rolled her eyes. “We can’t even trust you to do one simple task, Varric.”

 

He threw his arms up in the air. “You  _ know _ I hate traveling and the outdoors! What made you think I would know  _ anything _ about  _ berries _ ?!”


	4. Underwater

The Storm Coast and its weather was as unforgiving as it always was. The chilly rain pounded down on the backs of the weary travelers as they looked up just long enough to curse at the sky before turning their gaze back towards the ground, lest their eyes get the stinging pain from the force of the rain. Perhaps another group of travelers would have sought shelter, built a nice, warm fire to gather around, and try to wait it out. However, those in the group that had been to the Storm Coast before said that it was a waste of time. They could spent hours waiting for a break in the weather, only for that break to last ten minutes at most. They may as well press on cautiously, complete their business, and leave.

 

Ena did  _ not _ like climbing along the rocky paths in the rain. Each step she took was slow and precise, ensuring her foot wasn’t going to slip out from under her before proceeding. The others following along behind her were moving just as carefully, hoods drawn over their heads, trying to block out as much rain as possible. Another panicked thought Ena kept having was the ground crumbling underneath her. The terrain seemed surprisingly sturdy for constantly being pounding by bad weather...almost too sturdy. She was suspicious of every area of ground her foot touched. If she slipped from here...well, it wouldn’t end well. Beneath her currently was nothing but more stone and the hard ground.

 

_ Just keep moving. Don’t look down. Don’t slip. Don’t fall. Just keep moving,  _ she chanted to herself. 

 

Where in the world were these mercenaries they were supposed to be finding and potentially hiring? If she was going to have to scour the entire coast of the Waking Sea, she was going to be thoroughly cross. She detested this weather and was just ready to be dry again. What had it felt like, to be dry? All she could recall at the moment was that it was pleasant. She couldn’t believe that Varric had looked towards the sea, almost wistfully, with an expression that made Ena wonder if he was about to start swimming. Kirkwall was in that direction, so she could understand why he wished he could go. He’d voiced a couple of times to her now that he usually would turn and run from danger like what they were involved in, but he insisted that even he couldn’t look away from a hole in the sky.

 

Ena wished she could, but the burning green magic in her hand reminded her that that was nothing more than a fantasy. After all, here they were looking for more allies to boost the Inquisition’s power and influence. The member of the Bull’s Chargers that had come to Haven seemed rather nice, not at all like other mercenaries Ena had come across before. The only other thing she knew was that they were looking for a qunari named The Iron Bull. She hadn’t met any qunari personally. She’d only seen them from a distance and had no desire to get closer. They seemed like a terrifying race of power and they were just  _ so tall _ . She didn’t think she would like the feeling of being towered over.

 

As she got to the top of the odd rock formations, she stepped aside, taking a quick breather. On the other side, there was nothing but the sea to break a fall. However, beyond that, she could see a group of people through the sheets of rain. Perhaps that was them. She hoped so. She was all too ready to leave the Storm Coast behind. Glancing back at the others to make sure no one was falling behind, she was glad to see they were all sticking rather close together. Cassandra was about to scale up to where she was, so Ena pressed on, carefully making her way down the other side.

 

Her stomach dropped when she felt the rock crumble underneath her foot. Even before gravity began to pull her down, Ena scratched and clawed for something to grab hold of to prevent her fall. She’d thought she’d managed to grab some purchase in the rocks, but the surface was too slick. Her hand scraped painfully across it and she fell, her back crashing against the surface of the Waking Sea, a rough wave pulling her under.

 

For a moment, it was rather peaceful. It was surprisingly quiet underneath the water. No howling wind, no pounding rain. Just the simple sound of water in her ears.

 

The next moment, the panic set in. She was underwater, in armor, and she was sinking.  _ Fast _ .

 

She forced her eyes open, though the water stung her eyes something fierce. She blew out a small breath of her precious air and followed the direction of the bubbles. She twisted around, angling herself to be able to swim up towards the surface, where she could see the active surface between the rain and the waves. She tried her hardest to swim up, but all her clothes, armor, and weapons were just too heavy. Her hands started to fumble with the buckles, trying to lighten her load, but already, she could feel her throat tightening and her lungs screaming for air. She hadn’t had a chance to take a full breath before she fell in.

 

No,  _ no _ , she couldn’t just drown like this. She’d survived too much. There was still a hole in the sky. She couldn’t just die, leaving the people hopeless, with no other means of closing the Breach and the rifts. She  _ couldn’t _ die now… But she needed air. She was too far to draw a breath. If she opened her mouth now, she’d only swallow water.

 

Something grabbed her from behind and she couldn’t help it. Her lips parted to scream in shock, depleting her body of what little air she had left. Whatever it was, it was holding her tight around her torso. She then realized that she was moving upwards. Towards the surface. 

 

The moment her head broke through, she gasped, drawing in as much breath as she could. The pounding dizziness that had been setting in cleared and the roaring noise in her ears returned. She coughed between her gulps of air, spitting up what water she had swallowed. She then realized that the pressure around her torso was someone’s arm, but Creators, it was enormous. No one she was with had arms that big.

 

Whoever it was, they swam with impressive strength towards the shore. Even after Ena’s feet managed to touch the ground, the person who saved her tugged her even further up, finally releasing her when they were out of the range of the waves. Ena panted, still catching her breath, and looked towards her savior.

 

Grey skin. Horns. No wonder the arm around her had been so large. It was a qunari. Quite likely the one they had been looking for. He turned to look at her and she was stunned to an eye patch on his left eye. He gave her a rather broad, lopsided grin, and said, “Hey, there."


	5. Long

Solas did not understand this woman that had stumbled into his life, her face marked with green lines belonging to Falon’din. He’d come across her with a few of his people that followed him. Rather, they’d seen the incredible explosion of magic and followed it, finding her at the center, collapsing next to the still bodies of a man and a young girl, both still bleeding warm blood on the ground. All other elvhen nearby, marked of Elgar’nan, were dead, lips parted in surprise and eyes wide, looking lifelessly towards the unknown. The woman had barely managed to look at Solas, tears clearing a path through the grime on her face, before she passed out. He requested they bring her back to their stronghold.

 

It was days before he saw her again, but apparently it was of the same day she’d woken. He was stunned to see her out on the balcony overlooking the stronghold, the mountains, and the lake - a spot known to his followers as his private area. She begged him to know where her husband and daughter were. He was taken a little aback. Why hadn’t anyone just told her? Or perhaps she was still in shock, refusing to hear the words that were being said? When he found the words to tell her, short and to the point, she beat her fists against him. He could see the recollection in her eyes. She’d known, deep inside, but couldn’t bring herself to have believed it until it was confirmed. Normally, when anyone touched him, he would back away out of reach. He did not like being touched. However, he found himself remaining still, letting her weakening blows land on him. The wail that left her lips was the most chilling thing he’d heard. It was the sound of a person breaking, a person who had lost everything. She fell to her knees, doubled over, sobbing and raggedly gasping for breath. He was at a loss for what to do. He’d certainly never been in this sort of situation alone before. He slowly sunk to his knees and brought up a hand, laying it on her back. That was the first situation in which he’d spoken her name.

 

What was he doing?

 

She remained with them, taking time to mourn her lost loved ones. She couldn’t even go and see their bodies, because they’d been retrieved by followers of Falon’din, likely to be given the respects and preserved, as they were doing with as many victims as they could in the war. It was weeks before Solas saw her again, but when he did, something was different. She had a fire lit inside her, a harder demeanor, and a thirst for someone to pay. She wanted to help as many slaves - she’d used the actual word - as she could. In doing so, it would hurt the Evanuris, whom were the entire reason for the pointless slaughter of the people. He welcomed her help, setting her up in a group that he felt she would do well with. 

 

He would see her on occasion, in-between missions, and her expression never wavered. He found himself wondering how she was handling things. Had she come to terms with her losses, or was she just covering it up with her anger? He was then surprised at himself once he realized he was having such thoughts. 

 

The leader of her group went to Solas one day, telling him how well-rounded her mind was and that she had a knack for strategy. Since she had joined their group, they had minimal to no casualties in their missions and she was finding new ways to save more elvhen all at once. Not only that, but she was an exceptionally gifted mage. Solas nodded thoughtfully, appearing as though he was mulling over this information. He knew what he wanted to do about her, but he dismissed the man by saying that he would consider relocating her.

 

He managed to wait a couple of days before sending for her. When she stood before him, her rough gaze looking directly at him, her gaze not wavering, he knew. He asked her if she would advise him personally, to help plan for larger missions. She looked a little confused at that. She asked why he, a god, wasn’t ordering her to just do so. He frowned a little, telling her that he wasn’t a god.

 

The thoughtful, processing look on her face never once faded from his mind. She was the first ever to not look at him as though he’d spoken blasphemy. If anything, it seemed as though her eyes softened ever so slightly. She agreed.

 

He should have reined himself in then. He was near her practically all the time. He found himself lowering his walls around her, just her, slowly. The day she called him by his name, not Fen’harel, in private, he was floored once again. This woman kept on and kept on leaving him at a loss. When she explained her reasoning on calling her by his name, though she assured him she would keep calling him Fen’harel in front of the others, he rejected that - perhaps a little too quickly. He insisted that she could call him Solas whenever she wanted and in front of whomever she wanted.

 

Her smile. A true smile, that reached her eyes. It was the first time his heart had beat irregularly. It was then he noticed everything about her. The curves of her face, the light in her eyes, the shape of her nose, the way her lips curled up into that wondrous smile-

 

Oh.

 

Oh no.

 

He  _ couldn’t _ allow this. She’d just lost her  _ husband,  _ her  _ mate _ ! He couldn’t just start to have feelings for her! They were in the middle of a  _ war _ !

 

Still...that did not stop him gazing after her longingly when she left the room, her hair flowing out behind her, bouncing slightly with each step. Her beautiful, wavy hair, her tall, slender, yet lean and muscular body, the curve of her-

 

_ No. _

 

He could  _ not _ allow himself to feel this way.

 

That didn’t stop him from throwing himself between her and June’s arcane blade. When he saw her, hovering over Elgara’s motionless body, June preparing to strike her down, he felt his heart seize painfully in his chest. His throat constricted and the only thought rushing through his mind was,  _ No!! _

 

He’d never fade-stepped that quickly. It showed, since he raised his arms, wrapped in enchanted armor, but he wasn’t quite quick enough. The pain on his brow was nothing compared to what he’d just felt when he saw flashes of his life without this strange, stubborn, seemingly fearless woman in it. It was dull, dim, and not worth living. He grit his teeth, finally accepting how he felt, but he could not let her know. She was still stuck in the past - she’d told him as much when they’d shared a few drinks together alone. She didn’t speak of them much, letting him know how fresh the pain still was for her. He felt guilty when she would give him a smile and tell him how she appreciated him and what he was doing so much. He shouldn’t have these swelling feelings when she had just been thinking of her deceased family. How twisted was he?

 

That didn’t mean he was going to let her die. She, of all people, needed to survive to see the world he was going to create, one free of chains.

 

“Aravae, get up.”

 

When she rose, he’d seen the hardened, determined look in her eyes. It was one he hadn’t seen before. Not on her, at least. They were the eyes of someone who had a lust for blood. They were the eyes of a seasoned warrior, who felt alive on the battlefield. Those eyes should not belong to a woman such as her, one who detested fighting and bloodshed, though she knew how necessary it was. Still...something about them stirred a deep feeling of respect for her inside of him.

 

He was going to protect this woman he longed for, no matter the costs. He would build a new world for her. One she could live in peacefully, without fear of losing anyone else she cared for. Then, perhaps one day, in the far, far future...he would tell her how he felt.


	6. Sword

Cassandra approached Harritt in the new undercroft of Skyhold, where they’d resided for all of just under a week. She didn’t even have to ask her question. He just held up a hand and set down his hammer, spinning around to look for something. “Sorry, hold on… I’m not organized yet. I just put it… Ah! Here!”

 

He gingerly picked up a large broadsword, a dragon scaling around the top of the grip, the cross-guard, and the rain-guard, the steel of the sword emerging from its gaping mouth. He gazed at it with pride, holding it out to Cassandra. “Truth be told, I didn’t think I’d be able to make something of this caliber in such a short amount of time, but... I’m quite pleased with the result. I haven’t had a chance to do much testing with it. Perhaps you’d like to have that honor, Seeker?”

 

“Well, we cannot allow a sword of such importance to shatter when it’s being used.” Cassandra took it and held it in her hand, giving it a few shifts to test its balance. A small smile creased her lips. “I can already tell that this is a fine sword, Harritt. You should be proud.”

 

He gave a small chuckle with a slightly smug grin. He waved her on, inviting her to test the sword out on a dummy he had set aside in the corner. “Just don’t break it if you can help it,” he requested.

 

“I shall try.” She strided over to the dummy, tightening her grip on the sword. She raised it and gave it a few solid swings, smacking it against the dummy. The steel held well and no parts of the dragon cracked or bent. She tried a few stabs with all her might, grunting with effort. It held true. After a few more slices, the dummy began to crack a little, so she restrained herself. She eyed every detail of the sword, nodding in approval.

 

“What do you think?” Harritt asked from across the undercroft, his grin still in place.

 

“It will do splendidly. Excellent work, Harritt.”

 

“I do what I can, Seeker.”

 

“I’m sure the new Inquisitor will appreciate it just as much.” Cassandra gave him a grateful nod of her head before heading out of the undercroft. It was time for her to find Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen, and make their final decision. She was certain that they would all agree on who the Inquisitor would be, but they still needed to make it official, as the War Council for the Inquisition. It was almost a shame, that such a beautiful sword would be a powerful symbol, likely resting somewhere as decoration until it needed to be brought out to spill blood, as an execution blade. Then again, a sword’s only purpose in creation was to spill blood. Part of her honestly hoped that Ena Lavellan never had to use it for such a thing.


	7. Shy

“Sister!”

 

Aravae turned to the familiar voice with an excited smile. Nuvian ran up to her, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground, twirling her around in a circle. Aravae squeezed him tightly before letting him go and stepping back, examining him. He had a couple of new furs draped over his shoulders, his trophies from successful hunts. “Look at you, my brother! You seem quite successful. Lady Andruil hasn’t decided you were useless, after all?”

 

Nuvian scoffed and nearly rolled his eyes. “Just because you’ve never seen me actually hunt, Aravae, doesn’t mean that I’m bad at it.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Don’t you ‘hmm’ me. Come on.” Nuvian wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading the two of them through the crowd of elvhen. Around them was noisy, excited chatter. Outside, night had fallen long ago, but the halls were alight with gentle golden orbs, floating in the air to provide light in the areas that didn’t have torches or braziers. The smell of food and alcohol was strong in the air, nearly every person present having a glass or small plate of food in their hands. “There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

 

“Is it that man you’ve talked about so much?” Aravae inquired. “The one you hunt with?”

 

“Well, he’s one of many, but yes. Rienmar,” he reminded her. “He’s somewhere around here.  _ If _ he’s where I left him.”

 

Aravae smiled faintly, but she moaned in protest. “Nuvian, if you’re just trying to find a man for me-”

 

“As much as I know you’d love to just be with your books for the rest of your life, I know you could use some actual company everyone once in awhile.” Nuvian shook her gently from side to side as they walked. “Just talk to him. I feel like the two of you will connect.”

 

“Oh? How?”

 

“Just a feeling. Don’t give me that look. It’s a  _ good _ feeling.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Will you  _ stop  _ that?” They rounded a corner and went through a doorway, stepping outside into a large garden, gleaming with fireflies that hovered about all the people. Nuvian dropped his arm from Aravae’s shoulder and said, “Ah. There he is.”

 

Aravae followed his line of sight and saw a lone elf standing in the corner, leaning against the wall and holding a glass of wine. His hair was dark as the midnight sky, straight, but also light and feathery, shifting with the smallest movements. Nuvian called out to him and he looked towards them. Aravae felt her heart skip a beat. Not only was this man incredibly handsome with sharp, angular features, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen eyes as intense as his. They were a deep, seemingly never-ending blue that she felt could look straight through her. Once she and her brother came to a halt a short distance away, Nuvian must have introduced them, but she didn’t hear it. Rienmar gave her a polite, friendly smile, which also seemed to brighten his eyes. He took her hand and with a small bow, he pressed a kiss to the back of it in greeting. “My Lady.”

 

Aravae could feel the rush of blood from the tips of her ears down to her toes. She’d seen many handsome men before, several attempting to court her, but in just a matter of seconds, Rienmar had already made her heart flutter and her skin flush. Nuvian’s low chuckle was what snapped her back to reality. “Please forgive my sister. She can be shy sometimes.”

 

She swatted at him with a small hiss, Nuvian laughing as he stepped out of her range. To her surprise, Rienmar laughed softly as well. “I am glad to see I’m not the only one who wants to hit your brother sometimes.”

 

“Y-yes,” she stuttered. His voice was low and smooth, like honey. “He can be rather insufferable sometimes. I feel like I should apologize to you and thank you for putting up with him.”

 

“Well… He  _ is _ a good shot, so I suppose that’s something?”

 

Nuvian looked offended with a slightly gaping mouth. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have introduced you after all. I don’t need to be receiving the brunt of jokes and jabs here.”

 

“Not introducing me to your beautiful sister would be quite regrettable.”

 

Aravae’s stomach did small flips as her eyes darted down to look at her feet. She had no idea what to say. She wasn’t sure she could make it through the night without making a fool of herself. She scolded herself mentally. She wasn’t a doe-eyed woman who believed in love at first sight. It was positively ridiculous. Rienmar was just...very good looking and a smooth flirter with a lovely voice. She wouldn’t let herself mistake infatuation with love. She would need to find a way to regain her voice and speak with him more before making any decisions.


	8. Crooked

Ena sat silently in her room up on the small second level landing. She was in the corner with her knees pulled up to her chest and had her head leaned against the wall. Her mind was a jumbled mess, thinking about one thing in particular but how many different ways she could go about it. She was incredibly conflicted about her first...judging as the Inquisitor. This was one duty she didn’t want to have. She didn’t want to pass of judgments of what was right and what was wrong and hand out punishments. Every move she made was now being watched even more closely than when she was just the Herald. What was she going to do?

 

As if by summoning, she heard a faint knock on her door. She thought perhaps is was one of the War Council, there to urge her to come so that they could begin. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t sure she ever would be. So she didn’t speak up for whoever it was to enter.

 

It seemed that they didn’t care. The door opened and someone walked in. Ena leaned over slightly to peer through the rails, waiting to see who would appear at the top of the stairs. She relaxed slightly when she saw it was Aravae. It was possible that the others had sent her because they knew that she would respond better to Aravae than them. Still, Aravae wasn’t one for being a pawn, so it was more likely that she was here on her own. She glanced around, looking for the redhead. “...Ena? Are you here?”

 

“Up here,” she replied, her voice wavering slightly.

 

Aravae looked up and nodded, making her way towards the ladder. Once she was up on the second level, she didn’t ask any questions. She just went and sat down on the floor beside Ena, exhaling slowly once she was settled. The two of them sat there in silence, looking straight ahead. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was pleasant. Neither was pushing the other to say anything. Both were just waiting patiently.

 

“It’s today, isn’t it?” Aravae finally asked softly.

 

The lump in Ena’s throat made her choke a little. “...Yes.”

 

Aravae merely hummed in acknowledgement, not asking any further questions.

 

Ena was grateful for that, but she needed to talk about it. She couldn’t leave it bottled up inside. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do, lethallan. He’s...a terrible person, there is no denying that. After what he put everyone through…” Flashes of red lyrium creeping through the walls and Aravae laying in a cell, crystallized, went through her head. “That future I saw. It… It was real. It may not have come true, but to me...even though I didn’t experience the events of a year personally, I saw everything there. It happened. He deserves to pay. I can see him as a monster, but when Dorian talks about him, it...makes him human.”

 

“It isn’t easy, I’m sure. There is no truly right or wrong answer to a situation such as this. Everyone will have their own opinions of how it should be dealt with.” Aravae’s tone was low. “Alexius is a twisted and crooked man. He may have been on a more righteous path once, but no longer. Whatever happened to him broke him and shifted his mind. He needs to be punished for the things he has done while he hasn’t been himself. Try not to confuse yourself with who he once was.”

 

“...Yes. You’re right.” She set her golden gaze on Aravae with a tired, but grateful smile. “There’s just so many ways to approach this and...I don’t want to choose the worst one.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll find the answer. Unfortunately, it may be in the heat of the moment, but you have good instincts, Ena. You’ll come to a wise decision, I’m sure.”

 

“I’m glad  _ you _ have faith in me.”

 

Aravae gave her a small, reassuring smile of her own. “Shall we go? You shouldn’t sit and stew on this. You’ll drive yourself mad, prolonging the inevitable.”

 

Ena exhaled sharply, nodding her head decisively. “Yes. Let’s go.”


	9. Screech

Ena’s dreams had grown strange since receiving the Anchor. From what Solas had told her, she was now dreaming as though she were a mage. Demons and the like were attracted to the power of the mark, so she had to be cautious now, even when she closed her eyes. She was unhappy, not even being able to relax when she dreamt now. Neither the waking world nor the dreaming one could provide her with a safe haven.

 

She’d gotten used to the vividness of them within a few long weeks. She was easily able to recall the details of them, though sometimes, she wished she couldn’t. She dreamed of the death of her father, her mother’s frail body lifeless in an aravel, the bodies lying on the roads in the Hinterlands, the Breach swallowing the world whole…

 

Truthfully, finding rest was beginning to become harder and harder to achieve. They only grew worse after Redcliffe. In the few short hours she’d been in that horrifying future, she’d seen so many awful things. She had only seen it within the halls of the castle. She hadn’t even seen what it was like out beyond its walls. What was within was enough to give her nightmares. More than a couple of times, she woke with either a muffled, strangled scream, or a thick and heavy sob, tears pouring down her cheeks.

 

She could see everyone dead. Everyone corrupted by red lyrium. Everyone fighting to give her time to escape, then seeing them slaughtered in front of her. She’d seen the rooms where they’d all been tortured...where her best friend had been raped. She had these nightmares over and over again, unable to wake herself from them. In the dreams, she wasn’t able to do anything. She couldn’t move, couldn’t help, she couldn’t even speak. Why was she so useless?!

 

It all felt so real, up until the moment when she opened her eyes. She felt drained. Her limbs were heavy and she felt like she dragged throughout the day. Aravae noticed her weariness, asking repeatedly if there was something she could do to help. Ena gave her a weary smile and assured her she would be fine. She was beginning to feel like she was saying it to convince herself and not others.

 

One night, she nearly made a grave error.

 

She was seeing the image before her of Aravae, encased from the waist down in red lyrium, reaching out a hand and screaming, pleading,  _ begging _ for help from Ena, but she was frozen in place. She couldn’t move. It almost felt like she couldn’t breathe. From everywhere around her, red lyrium crystals grew quicker than normal, creeping slowly all around them, the room glowing an ominous shade of red. A single, disfigured red Templar hovered between Aravae and Ena, cackling madly.

 

“You want to save her?!” the Templar shouted.

 

_ Please...!! _ Ena tried to reply hastily.

 

“Ena! Lethallan! Help me… It hurts…! Make it stop!” Aravae screamed hoarsely.

 

_ I’m trying! _ she wanted to wail.

 

“You can save her. You make it all stop. You just have to do one thing.”

 

Ena hadn’t noticed how the Templar’s eyes were endless black holes. She pleaded silently,  _ Anything. Please. I’ll do anything to help her. _

 

The Templar sneered and leaned towards Ena. “Just say, ‘Yes.’”

 

“Y-”

 

The room shuddered and flashed a bright green, a horrid screech sounding around her ears. Ena managed to move to shield her eyes from the blinding light. When it faded, she was surprised to see Solas standing before her, the Templar gone. His back was to her, gazing at the broken figure of Aravae. With not a word, he waved his hand and everything vanished. Instead now, they were standing before Haven’s Chantry building. Ena whispered, “S...Solas…?”

 

“That was a demon, preying on you,” he said curtly. “I am not certain if you can be possessed so easily, since you are not truly a mage, but...we shouldn’t take any chances.”

 

The tears began to spill over, Ena’s heart heavy with sorrow. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she hung her head, her tears spilling onto the snow. Solas came over to her and set a sturdy hand on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.


	10. Gigantic

A loud rumbling was what originally attracted their attention. It was so tremendous that it shook the ground beneath their feet. They were curious to find out what was causing it, but not get too close to it. Ena could have sworn she saw a burst of fire from above and past the treeline. The closer they moved towards shore and the further away they moved from inland, the stronger the ground shaking got.

 

Sera, who was up at the front at the group, suddenly dropped to her knees behind a small boulder. “Holy shite! Look at that there - it’s  _ gigantic _ !”

 

The others dropped low and crept up to her side. Ena’s jaw dropped. It was a giant, stomping around and throwing punches at-  _ Mythal’s Mercy,  _ was it punching a  _ dragon _ ?!

 

It was! She blinked several times to ensure she wasn’t imagining things. The giant swung its fists around. The dragon roared and spun around, smacking the giant hard with its tail. It was thrown backwards, falling to the ground with a mighty  _ crash!  _ It picked itself up, then snatched a large boulder, tossing it at the dragon. It jumped backwards, hissing with ire.

 

“Whoa. This is...badass,” Bull breathed.

 

“Keep it together, Iron Bull,” Vivienne said dryly.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“We’ll need to get that way… We’re just going to have to find a way around.” Ena paused, her eyes widening as the dragon spewed fire at the giant, the beast bellowing in pain. “...A long way.”

 

“You mean you  _ don’t  _ want to march in the middle of that and take two monstrous creatures on?” Varric held a mocking hand to his chest. “I can’t believe it.”

 

“Oh, hush, durgen’len,” Aravae murmured.

 

“I can’t make jokes, Ivy?! I just want to get out of this place, like the rest of you.”

 

“Really? I find it quite pleasant.” Dorian glared up at the sky. “All this moisture and humidity is doing wonders for my complexion and hair.”

 

“What’s the matter, Vint? Scared of a little water?” Bull grinned.

 

“Kaffas.”

 

The dragon shrieking pierced the air. Ena tapped whoever was nearest to her, which happened to be Cole. “Come on. Let’s go. Far around them.”

 

“The giant is angry. It has something just as large as it in its territory. It wants to kill it - show others to not come near. The dragon is playing. It knows the giant cannot kill it.”

 

“That’s nice, Cole.”


	11. Run

Ena was crouched low behind her papae, holding tight to her small bow, made just for her and her size. She was still quite young and her papae was starting to teach her how to hunt. She was beyond excited. Finally, something he would teach her! Maybe they could bond and he would finally, really love her. She would make sure to do everything he asked of her.

 

She moved as quietly as she could as she followed after him. He would stop and point down at certain tracks and signs of an animal passing through and explain it all to her. She listened intently, nodding with enthusiasm. When he asked her questions to make sure she understood, she tried to answer them as best she could.

 

She struggled, now, to recall what he looked like. She couldn’t even remember anymore what vallaslin he had. Yet, she would remember this day for the remainder of her life, she was certain of that. 

 

It was only early afternoon, but Ena was already starting to get tired. She bit her lip, not wanting to admit it to her papae. She didn’t want him to get upset with her, not that she really needed to give him a reason sometimes. Today was supposed to be perfect. He would realize that she could be a successful, obedient daughter. He would shower her with love, like other parents did for their children in the clan. Then, once she was able to be a great hunter, she would help provide for the rest of the clan and they would all accept her too!

 

She just needed to make sure she was perfect today.

 

So far, everything was going well. She’d answered his questions. She’d kept quiet. She’d even tied a scarf over her hair so that she couldn’t be as easily spotted. Her papae had even made an impressed noise once she explained that to him. He said that they were starting to get close, so she needed to be ready. She’d proven that she could shoot stationary targets with her little bow, but now it was time to prove she could shoot something that moved.

 

She could  _ not  _ mess this up.

 

By time her papae had nocked an arrow and crept forward, Ena noticed something off to the side. Movement. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a small animal like they were tracking. She squinted and saw the reflecting glimmer of sunlight off of metal. She reached up and grabbed her papae’s arm.

 

“Ena’fen, don’t cling to me like that,” he snapped quietly.

 

“Papae, look,” she whispered, pointing to what she saw.

 

He looked and froze. When he spoke next, his voice was low and icy. “Ena, move back towards camp. Quietly. Don’t let them see you.”

 

“What is it, Papae?”

 

“Templars. Now go.”

 

All day. All day Ena had managed to be quiet, not even step on a twig. But with the tone her papae used, it sent her body into a tremble. She started to move, but her feet got twisted around and she tripped, landing with a  _ thud _ on the ground. Shouts rang through the air. Her papae growled and hoisted her to her feet quickly, then gave her a shove. “Go, Ena’fen! Run!”

 

“But Papae-!”

 

“ _ Run _ !”

 

Dropping her bow, she spun around and ran as fast as her feet would carry her, back towards the safety of the aravels, leaving her papae alone behind her.


	12. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated M for death, including that of a child.

Her lungs burned as she ran, her knees shaking with each step, begging her to stop and rest. She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop until she knew they were safe. Aravae’s arms were growing weary from the effort of holding Estelar, pressing her small body tight against hers as they ran. Estelar had long since stopped crying. Her small hands clutched at the top of Aravae’s dress, holding on tightly. Aravae knew that her daughter was scared, but she had done her best to reassure her.

 

But now? There were pursuers close behind. She couldn’t completely swallow all of her fear for appearances sake. Even if she hadn’t been running for who knows how long, her heart would be pounding in her chest. She didn’t dare glance over her shoulder to look behind her. Rienmar was running close on her heels, keeping a lookout for them and guarding the backs of his wife and daughter.

 

When Aravae heard him mutter, “Damn it,” breathlessly, she knew it couldn’t be good. She wanted to stop, rest, breathe, make a plan on how they could get out of this. “Aravae. There’s six of them. They’re gaining.”

 

She dared to glance off to the sides, seeing that their pursuers were spreading out and flanking, trying to get ahead of them and cut them off. When she saw a flash of red as one of them lifted their hand, she came to a quick halt, Rienmar bumping into her as he struggled to stop. Just before them, a wall of fire roared to life, it’s path twisting so that it didn’t consume any trees. Breathing heavily, Aravae and Rienmar shifted to try and look for an escape route, but they had already been blocked by four of the elvhen. The flames died down and on the other side were the remaining two. All six of them beared the markings of Elgar’nan. Half of them were mages, two were wielding arcane blades, and the last was an archer.

 

“Mamae?” Estelar whimpered.

 

Aravae kissed the top of her head and shushed her. “It’s going to be okay, da’vhenan. Rienmar, take her.” She pried Estelar’s hands off, despite the little girl’s protests. Rienmar took her and pressed her head to his chest, glaring at their enemies. Aravae began to reach for her staff.

 

“We just want to pass,” Rienmar called out, his eyes constantly moving to keep track of everyone’s movements. “We want no part in this. We just want to get our daughter to safety.”

 

“It  _ is _ a shame for us to kill such a precious young one,” one of them said, the grin on his face betraying the regretful tone he had. “However, our lord’s orders were go after anyone that was not one of us.”

 

“And I’d say that you are clearly not one of us.” Another gestured to his vallaslin. 

 

“You’ve clearly abandoned your lord and lady if you’re out here, running together.” One of the mages stepped closer. “Come now. Give us your child and we’ll only kill the two of you.”

 

“I’d like to see you try,” Aravae snarled, the air around her charging in preparation of her magic.

 

Several of them cackled. “Come now. You really believe you could take all of us on?”

 

“I can and I will,” she hissed, though she knew the odds were stacked highly against her. If she were alone, perhaps she could. However, with Rienmar and Estelar behind her, she couldn’t cast her magic recklessly. 

 

“Aravae-!”

 

In the blink of an eye, she cast the most powerful barrier she could conjure. She had just seen, out of the corner of her eye, one of the mages cast a quick spell to throw at them. She snapped, “You will not touch them.”

 

She flew into a whirl of activity. She threw lightning bolt after lightning bolt, cast as many spells as she could to keep the melee fighters at bay. Rienmar couldn’t help here. He was an excellent archer and a decent swordsman, but to do that, he’d have to set Estelar down where she would be more vulnerable. Instead, he kept her pressed tightly to his front side, covering her body with his when he saw danger coming towards them. Aravae set glyphs in the ground, she called her electricity down on top of her foes, and she tried to block their attacks as best she could. Whenever she heard a pained grunt from Rienmar, her heart stopped and she refocused all her efforts on her barrier. The one giving her the most trouble was the damned archer. She was trying to take him out before worrying about the others, but the mages were keeping too strong of a barrier on him.

 

When she spun around, one of the arcane warriors had broken through her defenses. With a cry, she fired her most powerful spell she could. It caught them all off guard when it struck him in his chest, sending him flying backwards. His back smacked against a tree and he fell motionless to the ground. They were only shocked for a minute -just long enough for Aravae to wipe the sweat from her head. She was running low on energy, but she couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not until they were safe.

 

She blocked a fireball that was roaring towards her. Right behind it was the other arcane warrior. When the smoke cleared, she felt panic grip her heart. Where had he gone? She turned swiftly, eyes searching for the warrior. With the scene she saw before her, time itself seemed to slow to a crawl.

 

Rienmar didn’t see the warrior break past Aravae. His attention was focused on the archer, who had just loosed an arrow. Aravae’s stamina was starting to run low. That, and she didn’t have time to strengthen her barrier. Rienmar was twisting his body, putting his back in the path of the arrow, clutching Estelar as tightly as he could. Aravae saw Estelar’s deep green eyes peer over his shoulder, then widen in horror as she saw the warrior lunging with his blade. Estelar started to scream as the blade stabbed through Rienmar’s side, but her scream ended abruptly. When the sword pierced Rienmar, he shifted and cried out from the pain. That small movement was just enough to put Estelar back into the path of the arrow. It landed, digging itself into her back. Aravae’s brain could barely process as she watched the light vanish from her daughter’s eyes. 

 

Rienmar collapsed, though he kept holding his daughter with all his strength. The warrior pulled his blade from Rienmar’s body and his blood poured from the wound, staining his clothing and dripping onto the ground. He slowly tilted his head to look at his wife, his face pale and eyes dimming. Aravae dropped her staff and fell to her knees, her heart cracking. She felt so numb and dizzy. What was going on? What was happening?  _ Why _ was this happening? 

 

“Vhenan’ara…,” he whispered hoarsely with difficulty. He drew ragged breaths and tried to push more words from his throat, but he couldn’t. His body sagged forward, falling into the dirt, Estelar’s still, small, fragile body lying underneath his arm.

 

Her heart shattered. She was no longer even aware of the archer nocking an arrow to kill her, nor the warrior taking steps towards her, raising the sword that still ran red with Rienmar’s blood, nor the mages preparing to cast a powerful spell together. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her head. She felt incredibly nauseous. Her limbs shook. She managed to suck in a breath, closed her eyes, doubled over, and screamed as loud as she could, all her confusion and anger and heartbreak within it. She didn’t notice that her magic swirled around her and exploded, striking the remainder of her enemies dead. All she knew was that when she looked up, prying her eyes open, she was not dead. They were. She saw a shadow approaching her. Was it a friend? Or the enemy’s reinforcements? 

 

It didn’t matter. All she knew was that she wanted to die. She closed her eyes as the shadow got closer, waiting for the blissful moment of release, but it didn’t come. Instead, she tipped forward and fell into unconsciousness. 


	13. Teeming

There was a knock at the open door, Blackwall peering in the room. “Hey, Sera, I was just checking to see if you were-...” He trailed off. Sera was sitting on her cushioned seats on the far right, the window open beside her. She was looking out of it with a shit-eating grin. Blackwall both smirked and gave a quiet groan. “I know that look. What’ve you done now?”   
  


“Wha? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” she said, her expression not changing one bit. She patted the open spot beside her.

 

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Blackwall came over and sat down, glancing out the window. “What’re we looking at?”

 

“You usually help Mr. Prissy Hair with drills, don’tcha?”

 

“I’m already pretty certain I don’t like the way this is going, but yes. I usually help  _ Commander Cullen _ with training.” He narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “Why?”

 

“Mm. Just a good day you picked to not be down there with ‘em. See that guy there, brown hair, kinda crazy curls?”

 

He peered out the window, looking towards the area with the training dummies. He spotted the human man Sera was talking about. He seemed irritated, his face contorted as he swung his sword vigorously at the defenseless dummy. “Yeah. What about him?”

 

“He’s a prig,” she said cheerily. “Heard ‘im callin’ Ena a knife-ear behind her back. I may or may have stolen his breeches,” she pointed to a small pile of pants in the corner of her room, “so he’s a bit pissy. He must’ve found someone to loan ‘im a pair.”

 

“...I don’t understand your fascination with stealing breeches, but as long as you don’t take mine, I don’t particularly care. How is that teaching him a lesson, though?”

 

“Oh, that’s not the lesson. Pfft. Not by a long shot. I just needed him to get good and angry. I’ve been watching for a couple days… He  _ always _ goes to that dummy, there…”

 

Blackwall’s eyes widened with realization. “Sera, did you-?”

 

“ _ Ahhh!! _ ”

 

He looked back at the scene while Sera grinned wickedly. The man had swung too hard and ripped the training open on its chest. When he did, its innards were exposed. What would normally be filled with stuffing was now teeming with bees. Angry bees, at that. They buzzed out and swarmed around the man as he screamed and swatted at them. The other soldiers ran for cover.

 

“Help!!” he shrieked. “They’re-  _ owww _ ! They’re stinging me-!”

 

Sera leaned over and closed the window, not wanting to risk any of the bees wandering into her room. It helped drowned out the panicked screams. She looked over towards Blackwall and gave a pleased sigh. “There we go. Class dismissed.”

 

Blackwall chuckled and shook his head. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, Sera.”


	14. Fierce

The warning shout Bull had cried out had been enough to wake the camp when he saw the shift in the shadows. Bandits had surrounded them and were trying to ambush them. His trained Ben-Hassrath eye had notated the odd change in the shadows of the trees, thanks to the bright moonlight. He kept his ears open, but he would at least admit that, for bandits, they were decent at sneaking along quietly. He grabbed his axe and immediately worked on counting how many there were. Seven, but all were close range fighters and there were no mages. It would be easy enough to take them out, but he needed to make sure the others were safe.

 

Currently, he was only traveling with Ena, Aravae, and Dorian on a quick mission. The two women burst from their tent, both in their simple clothes that they wore under their armor. Ena seemed wide awake enough, wielding her daggers and twirling into action. Aravae looked positively enraged, casting a barrier and looking surprisingly murderous for a woman who detested fighting. Bull would tease her about that later. Dorian stepped out, his hair in a wild mess, shooting several bolts of electricity at the first bandit he saw. Bull went into action, blocking the stab of a bandit. In the split moment when their blades collided, he saw the terror flash into the man’s eyes. The kind of terror of someone who thought they could handle something, but...they clearly miscalculated. He flashed a wicked grin before lifting his axe again and bringing it down with incredible force.

 

He quickly took out two of the bandits, glanced around and saw a third dead on the ground, but he heard a quick cry of pain. His breath caught in his throat as he spun on his heel, eyes searching desperately for Ena. He spotted her, just barely within the light the fire gave off. She’d dropped her left dagger and had it pressed up to her right arm, where he saw blood running down her arm. He narrowed his eyes at the bandit she was facing, his expression fierce. He growled and charged at the man, not giving him a chance to block or parry. When he made sure that the man was not rising again, he checked first and saw that the mages had disposed of the last three bandits. He dropped his axe and hovered over Ena, moving her hand away from her arm delicately. “Are you okay, Kadan?”

 

Ena couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m not made of glass, Bull. I’m okay.”

 

“We should go ahead and treat it, just in case it was pois-”

 

Aravae came up to him, all but shoving him out of the way with her free hand. She glared at the wound on Ena’s arm, examining it. She swathed her hand with the green, gentle glow of magic, and set it against the wound. Within moments, it was as if she’d never been cut. With her grumpy gaze, Aravae muttered, “Being in a relationship makes you a mother hen.”

 

“...Shut up,” Bull grumbled.

 

Ena laughed and touched his forearm with her fingers. “I think it’s sweet, Bull.”

 

“Kaffas, is that all of them? Can we go back to sleep?” Dorian demanded.

 

“Yes,” Aravae replied quickly. “Let’s.”


	15. Mysterious

Ena watched Aravae and Solas exchange pleasantries from a distance. She had been about to enter into Flissa’s tavern to escape the thick snowfall that was blanketing Haven, but the two elves had caught her eye, standing in the shadows near the hut that Solas was sleeping in. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see Aravae’s face, but she could see Solas’. She kept close to the wall of the tavern, peering at them questioningly.

 

It seemed innocent enough, but she...couldn’t just forget what she had seen in Redcliffe. She’d seen the desperation and the love in a kiss between the two as Aravae remained in a cell, crystallized to the floor, doomed to die soon. Solas had been startled, though not entirely surprised. Not to mention, he had returned the kiss almost instantly. However, since Ena had been back, she’d been watching them with curiosity. She couldn’t deny that she’d started to feel something for Solas, but...she couldn’t quite place what it was. His voice was soothing to listen to, his knowledge seemed endless… He wasn’t bad on the eyes, but when she factored in how old he appeared to be… She wasn’t certain. On top of that, now when she even had a thought resembling attraction to him, she felt almost guilty.

 

Their exchanges appeared innocent enough, asking rather basic questions about each other. However, she’d noticed that with their tones that they didn’t sound fully interested in it, as though they were doing it just because they felt obligated. At times, they even sounded slightly...bored. However, they still raised their eyebrows, changed their volume, and paid each other attention when they spoke. There was something about the both of them that was a bit mysterious, but Ena just couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

 

Aravae had just said something. Solas’ shoulders shook ever so slightly, indicating a small chuckle. His expression just barely softened. Something in his gaze shifted. Ena raised an eyebrow with intrigue. Why was he making such a face? It almost looked like-

 

...Oh.

 

Like the look her papae gave her mamae.

 

Ena flushed lightly, as though feeling like she’d intruded on something personal. However, there was something about it that made her incapable of looking away. Aravae shook her head and shifted to stand beside of Solas. Her expression was also gentle and surprisingly unguarded. The two glanced up towards the moon. Aravae pointed at the sky, still talking, but Ena saw how Solas stole a glance at her, his lips curving upwards. A quick, uncomfortable pang hit her in her gut. She immediately scolded herself. She couldn’t be jealous. He wasn’t even hers. She wasn’t even sure if he was someone she was truly attracted to or just currently infatuated with some aspects of him.

 

Besides...she was rather certain he had never looked at her in the way that he was towards Aravae now. However, for observant as her friend was, Ena doubted that she knew that Solas looked at her in such a manner. She shook her head at herself, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and she turned to go into the tavern, leaving the two of them to speak in true privacy.


	16. Fat

Solas was glad he was able to ignore all the women currently present in the rotunda so that he could focus on his fresco. He wanted to be able to have most of his current project done before they left for the Winter Palace. However, what he could not ignore was the smell of the sweets that they’d sent for from the kitchens. Once in awhile, when he stepped back to examine his work from a distance, he’d take a deep breath and pull himself away to venture over to the circle, lured by the promise of small cakes that Aravae would feed him with a smirk. He’d raise an innocent eyebrow and return to his work after he drowned out their voices. It was Aravae, Ena, Josephine, Leliana, and Vivienne. He was fairly certain that at one point, he’d heard Dorian’s voice call down from above, but the women shooed him off. He’d seen Cullen pop his head in through the door that led to his tower, but when he saw the group, his panicked gaze met Solas’ and he slipped back out. Solas couldn’t help but grin and shake his head. The poor commander had been forced to take lessons along with Ena for the last week and a half, so undoubtedly, he was trying to avoid the group that had railed him in any way possible. 

 

The chatter rose and fell in the room, though it was pushed to the back of his mind. He was only vaguely aware of it when silence fell for a time. He frowned and glanced back with curiosity and found that they were all looking at him. He blinked with confusion. “Can I help you?”

 

“Don’t mind us. We’re just watching,” Vivienne said nonchalantly as she gave a small waving gesture, encouraging him to go back to what he was doing.

 

He suddenly had the weighing feeling of being the only male in the room, outnumber by the females and their alcohol. Or were they drinking tea? They’d certainly been giggling like they were drinking. “...May I ask why?”

 

“It is quite fascinating to watch,” Josephine replied with an underlying enthusiasm. “You make it seem so effortless. And elvish frescos is a dying talent. Not many alive can replicate the style or the paints.”

 

“I suppose it all makes sense now,” Leliana mumbled. Clearly, she was still bitter about having two people carrying such a large secret right under her nose.

 

He wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I’m... sorry?”

 

Aravae held up a small cake. “Want some?”

 

As he gave a light shrug, he headed towards her, leaning over her shoulder and taking a bite out of it. Ena tried to smother a giggle. When he and Aravae glanced towards her, she was shaking her head. “Ir abelas. When I think of an ancient elvhen god, no matter who they might be, the last thing I think of is him eating so many sweets.”

 

“She’s right. You’re going to get fat, Solas,” Leliana said with a sly grin.

 

“I find that highly unlikely, Spymaster.” He licked his lips, ensuring he got all the frosting off.

 

Aravae hummed with an expression of uncertainty. “If we left you alone in the kitchen with the freshly made desserts…”

 

He gave her a dry look. “I would not eat until I made myself sick.”

 

“In a time of peace, surrounded with desserts, and no battles to help keep you in shape…” Vivienne trailed off, her lips curled upwards.

 

He scoffed and turned away from them, heading back towards his fresco, fighting to ignore the giggles arising from behind him.


	17. Graceful

Bull had kept a close eye on the ballroom after they’d arrived in the Winter Palace. He would soon venture off to his own area, where none of the others were, so that he could keep tabs on what was going on. If anything was. 

 

He almost had to laugh at the Orlesians. Though faces gave a lot away about what a person was thinking or feeling, he could still read them all like an open book with their eyes and body language. To his trained Ben-Hassrath eye, he would be able to figure out who was attempting to assassinate the Empress here tonight. 

 

He’d watched Ena as she floated about the room, exchanging pleasantries with the nobles and amusing them with their questions. He could tell how uncomfortable she was, but she was playing her part well. Josephine and Leliana had made themselves right at home, breathing and living The Game as though they’d never left. Cullen, the poor bastard, tried to blend into the shadows, but already, several women and some men were approaching him. His look of discomfort should have been obvious to anyone, but that didn’t stop them from their advances. Bull himself was not approached by a single person. The fact that he was even there was surely a shock to the court. All the more reason for him to clear out of the main room and find a more isolated area.

 

He had just been making his way towards the exit when he allowed himself one more glance at Ena. However, this one glance made him stop, his hand hovering above the knob. It slowly fell to his side. She was out on the dance floor with the Grand Duchess, but all he saw was her.

 

He’d heard the several teasing remarks Aravae had made about Ena being a good dancer, but he’d never actually seen her dance. Watching her now stole his breath from his body. She flowed effortlessly, her steps the epitome of graceful. She held her head high, kept her body tall, but not stiff, and her feet moved without even coming close to tripping over each other. In that moment, Bull could see how she felt more comfortable in doing something she was more familiar with. 

 

She was beautiful. He thought she was so beautiful, but he hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet. Her flaming red hair, her striking eyes, the small, gentle curves of her body, the smooth appearance of her skin...and that was just for her appearance. She was also fierce, though caring and kind, a brilliant warrior, swift and merciless on the battlefield with those who threatened her life first. Through all of the shit she had been through, including losing her entire clan, she could still smile and laugh, she could still find the silver lining in a situation. She tried to remain strong in front of everyone, though he could spot the cracks in her wall. When he’d trusted his gut and gone after her that night in the Emprise du Lion, he had known for certain. Against all he’d known, against all he’d been taught, he had come to care for this small woman. He didn’t want to see anything happen to her. He wanted to keep her safe.

 

And damn it, now he really wanted to dance with her before the night was over.


	18. Filthy

Aravae stomped rather unceremoniously up the bridge to Skyhold. Banal’ras was trailing along just behind her and Ena was attempting to keep up while smothering a grin and soft giggles. “I’m sure that no one will even notice, Aravae!” she called to her.

 

Aravae scoffed dryly, casting an unamused look over her shoulder. “Right.” She gestured widely to her body. “No one will notice a thing.” Her waist down was covered in mud, including a few splotches on her arms. It was too cold up there in the Frostbacks for her to have tried to rinse off outside of the fortress in order to hide her...mishap. If she was lucky, maybe she could make it back to her tower without anyone stopping her. The looks, she could deal with, but if someone were to ask, she couldn’t guarantee she’d get embarrassed. Ena wasn’t helping the matter.

 

“But at least I managed to get the boar before it ran off when you-... Well... you know.”

 

“Yes. I know.”

 

“C’mon, lethallan, don’t be mad!” Ena pleaded, though she could no longer suppress her smirk. 

 

“Hmm.”

 

“You’re mad.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You’re irritated, then.”

 

“I am.”

 

Ena sighed, but didn’t have a chance to say any more before they walked through Skyhold’s main gate. Aravae quickly veered off from Ena without so much as a farewell. Anyone that so much as raised an eyebrow in her direction was met with a cold, icy glare, daring them to say something. She made it past the tavern without anyone speaking to her. She walked quickly along the battlements. She walked towards Cullen, who was about to greet her, but when he met her gaze, he clamped his mouth shut and practically steered out of her way as she walked.

 

She walked into the tower and swung open her door.

 

“Ah, Aravae, you’re finally back-!” Dorian raised his eyebrows as he laid eyes on her. “Gracious, what happened to you?! You’re positively filthy!”

 

Aravae growled. “Dorian. Why are you in my room?”

 

“I was waiting for you to return so we could continue our conversation from earlier on necromancy, but… Dear, you need a bath. What on earth happened?”

 

“Let’s just say I officially am a terrible hunter. Now please leave.”

 

“A terrible hunter?”

 

“That’s the most you’re getting from me.” No way was Aravae about to relay the story of how she once fell into a pond when she went hunting with Rienmar the first time. Nor was she about to tell him how this time, she tripped over a buried root in the slushy snow and fell smack onto her knees. She would never live it down. Ena knew better than to say anything. Aravae was just done with trying to hunt. No more.


	19. Cloud

Ever since Aravae had taken her to stargaze, Estelar had been inclined to whine and demand that her mother bring her back to the same wide, open field again and again. When she finally had time away from her duties, she surprised her daughter with a picnic, Rienmar being able to accompany them this time, as well. When Aravae called her to the front door of their hut, picnic basket in hand and her other hand laced with Rienmar’s, Estelar’s jaw first dropped, then she squealed with delight, running at them and tightly hugging their legs. Rienmar lifted her and set her atop his shoulders once they stepped out of the hut and off they went, strolling through the trees to the nearest eluvian.

 

Estelar eventually wanted to be put down so that she could walk in-between her parents, her tiny hands engulfed by theirs. When they walked through a couple of eluvians, leading them out into the field, the small girl with the tight, black curls ran off ahead of them, laughing carelessly and looking up at the sky. Once she’d chosen a spot for them to lay out their things, Aravae shook out their blanket, spreading it in the grass. She gave Estelar the important job of setting the food out, which also helped to weigh the blanket down so that it wouldn’t be blown around in the breeze. Rienmar gazed at the two gently, his hair loose and blowing with the wind. While Estelar arranged everything how she wanted, Aravae brought her hair over her shoulder and set it in a loose braid, smiling at their daughter.

 

They ate slowly and talked and laughed, the sun shining down on them. Once they finished and set the dishes back in the basket, they went ahead and folded up the blanket, tucking it under the basket. They then laid down in the grass, looking up towards the sky. Estelar was quick to point. “Mamae! Papae! Look at that cloud! Don’t you think it looks like a halla?!”

 

Aravae and Rienmar looked towards the cloud Estelar was gesturing towards. “Ah, it does, da’len. Good eye.” Rienmar then gasped softly and pointed at another one. “Look! Quick! That one looks like a book.”

 

“A book? That’s boring, Papae.” Estelar giggled. “All Mamae does is read.”

 

Aravae swatted gently at Estelar. “Are you saying you don’t want me to read you to sleep anymore?”

 

“No!” she squealed.

 

“Hmm… Ooh, how about that one? That one looks like a dragon head.” Aravae pointed.

 

“It does!” Estelar gaped and stared at it until it lost its shape. “Clouds are funny. Why do they change so much?”

 

Aravae and Rienmar shared a glance. Rienmar gave a light bob of his head, indicating he’d take this one. “Well, da’len, you see…”


	20. Deep

Aravae gazed out to the mountains surrounding the safe haven of Fen’harel and his followers, deep in thought. The enjoyed the light breeze as it caressed her skin, her hair tickling her neck and shoulders. Still, she didn’t move from her position where she leaned most of her weight on one leg and had her arms crossed over her stomach. Her eyes were set on the peak of one of the mountains, though her focus was far past it, her mind racing with thoughts. She heard the footsteps approaching her quietly from behind and knew immediately who it was as the raw swell of magic in the air brushed against her own aura. Solas came to stand beside her silently, glancing at her before looking out towards the landscape.

 

It was pleasantly silent between them for a time. Solas had grown to identify when she wanted time to think, so he wouldn’t disturb her until he thought she was finished. When she at last took a deep, slow breath of air, standing more erect, he asked softly, “Do you have any ideas to share?”

 

“Several, but…” She clicked her tongue. “The one that is going to spare the most lives will be more involved.”

 

“Let’s hear that one first.”

 

“Okay.” She turned on her heel, gesturing for him to follow. “Shall we go to your council room? It would be easier to describe with the maps in front of us.”

 

He held a hand out to stop her. “We can hold off for a few more moments. It is a nice day outside. It’s been pouring non stop for days. Surely we can bask in the sunlight for a short time longer.”

 

Aravae came to a halt, frowning slightly. Though she had missed the sun, too, her nerves felt frayed. She’d been racking her brain for nearly an entire day, trying to come up with a plan to lure more of Dirthamen’s elite fighters out into the open. These were warriors that were completely dedicated and they were hunting down any slaves that attempted to escape, no matter who they’d previously pledged themselves to. Now that she finally had some plans, she wanted to get them out of her brain and share them, see if any would work better in reality than they would just in the walls of her mind. However, she turned back to stand by Solas. “The one I’m thinking of will take us deep into the forest near one of Dirthamen’s shrines-”

 

“Aravae. Breathe.”

 

She found it difficult, but she took a couple of breaths, each one deeper than the previous. It did little to ease her worries, but it still helped slightly. 

 

“Better. Do not worry yourself sick over this. You have given me priceless council and have offered up multiple plans that have been executed nearly flawlessly. You’ve saved many lives by being here.” He offered her a small smile. “This time will be no different.”

 

“I...appreciate you saying that, but… These are his elite force. I’ve been in the same room several times with just Falon’din and Dirthamen and he is...unsettling. I’d hate to watch these warriors in action. What if-?”

 

“Aravae.”

 

“Ir abelas. I just have so many factors to think about and make sure to not put anyone needlessly in danger…”

 

“I have the utmost faith in you.” He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “You will carry us to victory again.”

 

She dared to crack a small, friendly smile in return. “I hope so. Thank you, Solas.”


	21. Furious

Ena stepped into the smithy, eyes peering around for the person she was looking for. She spotted Cullen, though he was facing Cassandra. She couldn’t fully make out their words, but from their tones, it was something that was getting heated. She made her way further inside, unsure if she should interrupt them or not. She knew she didn’t have to worry about either of them being able to hold their ground, but she didn’t want them to be arguing, either…

 

“Would you rather save face than admit-?!” Cullen cut himself off when he spotted Ena approaching them. His face had been contorted, his voice furious, but it fell the closer she got. Just as she opened her mouth to address him, he brushed by her, hanging his head in sorrow. “Forgive me,” he murmured.

 

“And people say  _ I’m _ stubborn,” Cassandra called after him as he left the building. “This is ridiculous.”

 

“What was...that all about?” Ena asked hesitantly, unsure if she should be inquiring about it or not.

 

Cassandra explained the situation, about how Cullen was still struggling with his lyrium addiction and how he believed that he now needed to be replaced. She told Ena how the Templar Order had always held its Templars captive, almost, being their only source of lyrium. Once they were addicted, they had nowhere else to turn to for an assured, constant supply. Or, they could face potential death if they tried to stop taking it. Cullen was close to being able to break himself away, to be a free man again, but the closer he got, the further away he felt and the more distraught he became. Cassandra urged Ena to talk to him and change his mind about thinking that he needed a replacement.

 

Her feet dragged as she walked out of the smithy. It was true that she encouraged him to not take the lyrium when she’d caught him in a fit of exhausted rage and despair. She felt guilty, knowing it was causing him great pain, but she also could tell that, underneath everything, he was just pleading for someone to reiterate that he was doing the right thing and that he just needed to be strong. So she did. She could tell he wanted to beat this. He didn’t want to feel like a slave to his needs for lyrium and she had great respect for him for deciding to do such a thing.

 

As she made slow progress towards his tower, she found herself recalling how he was behaving the past several days. He’d been drilling the recruits rather hard, but not necessarily any harder than normal. He’d seemed tired at their last council meeting, dark bags evident under his eyes. She’d even played a game of chess with him, where he made a couple of mistakes, but still managed to come back and seize victory. She did see him bark a few things at one of his runners, though she’d seen the regret in his eyes, knowing he’d taken out his anger on the wrong person. All in all, it was nothing that was causing any danger to himself or others. Why would he think that he needed to be replaced?

 

She would help him through this. Hopefully, he wouldn’t try to shut her out. But she didn’t want to see him spiral down further into the darkness. She agreed with Cassandra. If Ena were to accept that he needed to be replaced, he would lose all purpose in what he was doing. He wouldn’t have that strong, driving force any longer. She took a deep breath, preparing herself, then opened the door to his office.


	22. Trail

_ The moonlight pours through the trees _

 

_ And basks the night in its glow. _

 

_ Though here I sit on the crossroads, _

 

_ Unsure of where to go. _

 

_ The night is cold _

 

_ And the fog is thick. _

 

_ The only other light is the tiny, flickering flame _

 

_ Dancing upon my candle wick. _

 

_ It illuminates my path ahead, _

 

_ Though it doesn’t tell me which to take. _

 

_ I begin to feel as though one is real _

 

_ And one is fake. _

 

_ I alone must decide _

 

_ Which trail shall I tread? _

 

_ And into the darkness _

 

_ I alone  _

 

“Hey, Seeker, what was that you just threw into the fire?”

 

“None of your business, Varric.”


	23. Juicy

Aravae had been trapped in Josephine’s office with her and Leliana for quite some time, talking with them and answering all their questions they had about Arlathan and Ancient Elvhen culture. She was glad to speak with them, hoping that perhaps their questions would help alleviate some of their worries about herself and Solas. She didn’t mind, but it had to have been hours since they’d started. She was waiting for a breath of air.

 

A soft knock came at the door and their heads snapped up to look at it. Josephine cleared her throat and called, “Come in.”

 

Lace Harding’s head popped through the doorway. “Oh. Umm...am I interrupting something?”

 

“Lace!” Leliana broke out into a smile. “No, come on in. You have what I asked for?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” She slipped inside, closing the door behind her. She gave a friendly grin to the other two in the room. “Ambassador. Lady Aravae.”

 

“Harding.” Aravae sighed. “We’ve talked about this.”

 

“We have. Lace,” she pointed to herself, “Aravae,” she pointed to the elvhen woman.

 

Aravae arched an eyebrow. “Fair enough.”

 

“Lace, yes, come, come, sit down.” Josephine gestured towards an empty chair. “You have news?”

 

The dwarven woman gave a light giggle and sunk down into the chair. “Oh, all kinds. Good and juicy news, just how you like it.”

 

“Yes, let’s hear it,” Leliana sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, her smirk widening.

 

Aravae started to rise from her chair. “This sounds private, so I should-”

 

“No, no, please stay,” Josephine interjected. “This should be some fun conversations. We’ve been gathering last-minute information on the nobles that will be in attendance of the Winter Palace Masquerade. I can only assume by Lace’s face that we will have some good dirt on them.”

 

“But...I don’t know who any of them are.”

 

“Not the point.” Leliana raised her index finger. “Wouldn’t you like to know who wears emeralds on her slippers? Such a pointless display of wealth that if she were thrown into a lake, she would sink!”

 

Aravae lowered herself back into her chair. “...Emeralds? On slippers? Why would anyone ever-?”

 

“That’s the point.” Lace gave her a small wink. “Come on, stay with us.”

 

She took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat. “...Very well. I’m intrigued.”


	24. Blind

Bull poked his head into the tavern and nearly instantly regretted it. He could hear ridiculous, flowery words being spouted from a drunk soldier, who was holding a bouquet out to a woman. He groaned and began to back out when a hand caught his arm. It was Krem. He grinned and said, “What’s the matter, Chief? Don’t wanna stay for poetry night? We’ve made a hell of a drinking game out of it.”

 

“Ugh, no thanks. How this ever even got started it beyond me.” Bull narrowed his eye at the man who was currently standing in front of the fireplace, waving his arms for emphasis as he spoke.

 

“Come on, maybe you can even pick up some good stuff to lay on the Inquisitor.” Krem elbowed him with a wink.

 

“If she wants to hear stuff like that, I’m sure I wouldn’t need help from the likes of…” He gestured. “This. Speaking of which, have you seen her?”

 

“Hmm.” Krem glanced around the tavern. “She was here up until a short while ago. Not sure where she might’ve gone off to.”

 

“I’ll find her. Thanks.”

 

With a disgruntled noise, he shut the tavern door, eager to get away from...whatever the hell that exactly was. He first glanced up around the battlements, but he didn’t spot her fiery red hair anywhere up there. At this time of late afternoon, perhaps she’d be in her room. He made his way there, peering around as he walked, just in case she was out and about. He hadn’t seen her, so he hiked up the stairs to her room. He raised his hand and knocked, waiting for an answer.

 

All he heard was silence. Frowning slightly, he cracked open the door and called, “Ena?”

 

Still nothing. He walked in slowly, not wanting to startle her or intrude on her privacy, if she wanted it. Once he could see up past the last of the stairs, he didn’t see her anywhere in her room. However, the fire was lit in the hearth and her balcony doors were open, a ladder set against a section of the wall. He arched an eyebrow and walked out onto the balcony, then looked up. 

 

Ena was sitting up there, her eyes misty and her cheeks rosy. She looked a little surprised at seeing Bull. She furiously wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat. “Bull. What’s going on?”

 

“I was looking for you. Thought you might be at the tavern.”

 

“I was.”

 

“Krem said. Is everything okay?”

 

She shrugged, averting her gaze.

 

His expression shifted into concern. “Why don’t you come down from there, Kadan? I don’t want to break your little ladder coming up there after you.”

 

It took a few moments for Ena to decide to listen to him. She climbed slowly down the ladder and when her feet touched down on the balcony floor, her gaze did not meet his. He took her hand, so small in comparison to his, and led her inside, closing the balcony doors behind them. He took her over to the fire. She felt chilled. How long had she been out there? He gazed down at her intently, smelling the sweet alcohol around her that she’d consumed at the tavern. “What’s wrong, Kadan?”

 

She sniffled softly, looking into the flames. “It’s stupid.”

 

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

 

She glanced at him for a quick second, as if silently questioning whether or not he truly meant it. However, she went back to staring at the crackling fire. Just as he thought that she wasn’t going to answer, she murmured, “Am I pretty?”

 

The sudden question threw him off guard. He blinked with confusion. “Of course you are. You are damn gorgeous. Where did this come from?”

 

“It’s stupid,” she reiterated. “I just… I was sitting there, listening to that stupid poetry, and I just…I saw one of the women you used to be with. I just thought she was so pretty, with her long hair and thick lashes and,” she gestured to her body, “her curves…”

 

“You have nothing to feel insecure about,” Bull said softly, squeezing her hand. “I love you, as you are. There is more to love than just appearances, but Ena…” He gently took her chin and tilted her head, causing her to finally meet his gaze. “Even a blind man could see that you’re beautiful.”

 

He could see the tears welling up again, but he knew they weren’t tears of sadness or insecurity. Ena barked a short laugh and wiped at her tears again. “I thought you hadn’t been in the tavern during poetry readings.”

 

“I haven’t. I don’t need to listen to that sappy crap in order to woo you.”

 

She smiled softly. “Well, I can’t say that it didn’t work.”

 

He chuckled and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.


	25. Ship

Ena was nearly tapping her foot with growing impatience as the end of the War Meeting started drawing to a close, but Leliana and Josephine had gotten a little bit off topic. Cullen was standing between them, weariness set on his face. Clearly, he wanted to get out of there as much as she did. She had promised to meet Dorian down in one of the cellars to snatch a bottle of wine and have a quiet evening, but she was so incredibly late. Things dragged on quite a bit when the her counselors veered off and started arguing about the best way to handle things. Cullen was so dry tonight, he’d even made a comment about having someone’s head on a pike, then turning to Leliana with a pleading look, telling her to not get any ideas. Though a little amusing, Ena had to agree - putting heads on pikes was not her idea of handling anything...diplomatically.

 

The slight shimmer in Leliana’s eyes wasn’t promising.

 

At long last, Cullen finally cleared his throat rather aggressively and gathered up his stack of papers. “Well, ladies, if that will be all…”

 

“Oh, yes.” Josephine nearly hopped in place, as if jolted back to reality. “I do apologize. It is getting late, isn’t it? Well, may you all have a good evening.”

 

“Same to you, Josie,” Leliana replied. “Inquisitor. Commander.”

 

“Goodnight,” Ena and Cullen murmured together, both heading quickly for the door. As Ena parted ways from the blonde man in the main hall, she could’ve sworn he’d muttered under his breath, “Andraste preserve me.”

 

She hurried down the stairs towards the cellars, hoping Dorian wouldn’t be too upset with her. After all, she couldn’t help it when the three of them started arguing. Leliana was so set on having her agents assassinate someone or using secrets about someone to be their undoing… Cullen wanted to solve everything with force… Josephine wanted to take the long route, though it was usually the most efficient course of action… It was exhausting. Knowing Dorian’s good taste in wine was already setting her mind at ease. She could really use something to take the edge off tonight.

 

As she entered the room that contained all the wine Josephine made sure they had stocked, she didn’t have to go far to find Dorian. He was seated in front of one of the first rows, a bottle already opened and partially gone. He turned his head towards her and his eyebrows raised. “Ah. You’ve finally arrived. I’m afraid I just couldn’t wait any longer to pick something out. That ship,” he flattened his hand and waved it horizontally in front of him, “has sailed.”

 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Dorian.” Ena plopped herself down beside him, her feet aching with relief at finally getting a break. “It just never ends.”

 

“Perfectly understandable, dear.” He procured an empty wine glass from his side and poured the contents from the bottle into it. He swirled it a couple of times before passing it to her. “You are quite an important woman, you know. In such high demand. Here. I think you’ll like tonight’s selection.”

 

She accepted it with a soft smile. “I’m glad you aren’t upset at me.”

 

He scoffed and raised his glass near her. “I’m not quite that petty, Ena. Come now. No more talk of Inquisition business. Let me educate you in this  _ lovely _ Tevinter wine and you can tell me more about...Dalish things.” He gave her a teasing wink. “Ooh, wait, how about dances? I’ve yet to see you dance.”

 

“Maybe if I drink enough, I will,” she said with a grin. Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a sip, letting the taste of the drink rest on her tongue for a moment before swallowing it. Her eyes widened with appreciation. “Creators, that’s good.”

 

“I  _ do _ know my wine,” Dorian gloated.

 

“Yes, yes. Tell me all about it, I’m sure it’s killing you inside.”

 

“My! Snarkiness already? Well, if you insist…”


	26. Squeak

Hidden away in the forest, the ruins stood nowhere near as tall as they’d once been, centuries ago. The sunlight filtered through the trees, illuminated the stones and cracked statues. Around them, the birds sang cheerily, blissfully unaware of the tragedy surrounding the area. Aravae gazed around sorrowfully, eyes searching for anything familiar. This had once been an exquisite temple of Dirthamen, but it was nearly unrecognizable now. 

 

Out of all the temples she and Solas had come across so far, this one was by far the most destroyed. It didn’t look like there was a single place where the ceiling had even remained intact. All the statues she saw were either deeply cracked, barely holding together, or had crumbled into pieces entirely. The walls were more than halfway fallen, but vegetation had grown over what remained, helping to hold it in place. Any frescos and art that may have been were no longer whole. She stepped through what used to once be the grand entrance hall, aglow with braziers and paintings telling the heroics of Dirthamen. When she didn’t step on any plant, a thick cloud of dust stirred at her feet. Solas followed in behind her, Banal’ras remaining behind, looking out towards the forest.

 

She walked slowly, recalling the temple as it had once been. She searched for anything that could be saved or for any sign of any remaining sentinels, but… The halls were empty. The temple had likely been looted several times over. There was no chance that anything was left. She glanced and saw bones scattered about, most severely aged. Likely, if she’d even touch them, they’d turn to dust beneath her fingers. There was no one left.

 

She took a shuddering breath and stopped walking. “...Are you okay?” Solas asked her softly.

 

The birds continued singing all around her. Somewhere around her feet, a mouse gave off a light squeak and scampered away. The sun shone down warmly on her. It all felt as if it was taunting her. She murmured, “There’s nothing here. We should just press on to the next temple.”

 

“We can check a little further in first,” he suggested.

 

She shook her head. “It’s been too long. Clearly, others have found this place throughout the decades. It has been cleared out and all the sentinels died to protect it...or, they perhaps left to find another temple.”

 

“...Very well. If you’re certain, we can go ahead and move on.”

 

Aravae glanced around the surroundings once more, a weight pressing down on her. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and she suddenly felt as though they weren’t alone. Perhaps the spirits of the sentinels were trapped there, angry and pressing against the Veil. She exhaled sharply. “Yes. Let’s go.”


	27. Climb

Nuvian ran ahead of Aravae, his bow clutched tightly in his hand. She followed after him empty handed, save for the pouch tied securely around her waist. They’d been out in the forest, collecting herbs for one of the elders and Nuvian had spotted  _ something _ run off into the foliage. Since he continuously boasted about wanting to be a hunter and serve Andruil, he took off after it. “Come on, Nuvian!” she called breathlessly. “You don’t have to prove anything to  _ me _ !”

 

“But if I can bring something back, maybe Lady Andruil will let me join her even sooner than what Lord Falon’din says!”

 

“ _ Or _ you’re just going to drag something dripping with blood into Lord Falon’din’s home and he’ll get cross and force you to clean it up!”

 

“We won’t know until I try!”

 

“Fenedhis,” she hissed. “And you say  _ I’m _ a troublemaker…”

 

“You don’t have to follow me, you know.”

 

“I’m going to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

 

Nuvian scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

 

They ran for a while longer until Nuvian finally slowed to a stop, breathing heavily. Aravae propped her hands on her knees and bent over, fighting to fill her lungs with air. Nuvian made a humming noise in his throat as he glanced around, looking at the ground, bushes, undergrowth, and foliage out past them. She was just about to ask him if he saw anything when he shoved down on her shoulders, making her knees buckle underneath her, forcing her to smack her knees on the ground. “What are you-?”

 

“Shh.” He knelt low beside her, peeking through a bush. “I see it. It’s a fox.”

 

She glanced around, trying to spot it. It was quite a distance ahead of them, but it had stopped, its head darting around quickly, searching for danger. 

 

“I couldn’t hit him from here…,” Nuvian muttered. “Oh. Here, hold this.” He passed off his pouch of herbs to Aravae, who took them with a slight frown.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’m going to climb this tree.” He carefully stood up from behind the large base so that the fox wouldn’t spot him. He secured his bow around him and though Aravae was beginning to insist he not carry out his idea, he grabbed onto a low branch and began to ascend. She sighed heavily, yet quietly, and turned her attention back to the fox. 

 

It didn’t seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary yet, but its stance hadn’t relaxed. It continued looking around, waiting to see if it still had pursuers. When she looked up, Nuvian was still working on climbing. It wasn’t that he needed to get high, but he was trying not to make noise and stay out of the fox’s sight for as long as possible. He seemed to have found a branch he was satisfied with. He crouched and tugged his bow free, sliding an arrow from his quiver and nocking it. He drew the string back and Aravae looked towards the fox, anxious to see if her brother would hit his mark or not.

 

She heard the twang as he released the tension on the string. His arrow flew fast, heading towards the fox. However, it lodged in the tree just above the fox’s head and the critter darted off, vanishing into the forest. Nuvian groaned loudly and leaned back against the base of the tree, his arms hanging at his side. Aravae stood from her hiding spot and gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re getting better. You almost had it that time.”

 

“Almost isn’t good enough,” he protested.

 

“Look at the bright side. You won’t have to get scolded by Lord Falon’din.”

 

“If I had been scolded at all!”

 

“You likely would have.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

She cracked a small smirk and waved at him. “Oh, come on. Just come down from there. Let’s keep gathering herbs on the way back and we should have enough.”

 

He blew out a harsh puff of air. “Fine.”


	28. Fall

Cole flitted about from person to person within Skyhold. A group of wounded soldiers and a few civilians had just arrived after a nasty run-in with red Templars. All the new hurts were screaming in his mind. He need to move as quickly as he could and help all those he could.

 

“Ache, aching, but more than that… Burn, it’s burning. The leg is poisoned. If you take it now, you can save the rest of him,” he whispered to the surgeon. He then quickly knelt beside the soldier that was crying out in pain. “It will be scary. You won’t be able to fight, but you can still serve. Don’t worry. This won’t make you worthless.”

 

He slipped off before the surgeon even brought out the saw. He wandered into the next tent, staring at another soldier, a woman, wheezing for breath and staring blankly at the top of the tent. He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Freshly picked wildflowers. Open field. Sunlight. A breeze. He waits for you atop the hill, smiling as brightly as the sun. He holds a bouquet of flowers, picked just for you. No war. No suffering. Don’t be afraid. He will be there, waiting for you.” The woman’s eyes slid shut, a small smile on her lips. He left as one of the soldiers standing by the cot began to wail with loss.

 

He went next to a woman outside the tents, staring misty-eyed up at the fortress walls. “Home burned, animals slaughtered, friends dead. Long journey here, more death, more blood, more friends dead. First son and second son dead. Husband missing. It will be hard, but think of Timmy. He wouldn’t want you to be sad. He would want you to be strong and fight back. ‘You are such a fierce woman and stubborn as an ox.’ You are safe here.”

 

As he started to make his way towards a man who was trying to decide how to deliver all the bad news to the Commander, something else called out to him. He stopped and slowly turned his head, eyes focusing on a young woman who was standing outside of the stables, gaze fixated on the harts. Something was conflicting this woman. He took slow, but long strides towards her until he came to stand at her side, several inches taller than her. He could feel her emotions rushing into him as he concentrated on what was hurting her.

 

“So big and majestic. Powerful and beautiful creatures. Want to ride one. Want to be a warrior on one. But Papa would hate me forever because only knife-ears ride on such beasts. Horses are more normal and reliable.” Cole frowned slightly. 

 

The young woman jolted as she saw Cole standing next to her. “Eep! Where did- Where did you come from?!”

 

“That’s silly,” Cole said, ignoring her question. “Why should only elves be allowed to ride harts? Why should only humans be allowed to ride horses?”

 

“I-... I don’t know…” She sighed softly and looked back towards the harts as they happily munched on fresh hay. “I think it’s silly, but Papa says I can’t ride one. Says I can’t be a warrior, either.”

 

“You could ride one. Come.” Cole took her by the hand, despite her protests, and led her up to the individual stables. He took her to the one Aravae called Ghilana - her guide. She was a friendly one. She loved it when Cole snuck her apple slices. He lifted the young woman’s hand in the air, releasing it as Ghilana lifted her head with curiosity, sniffing at the hand. She blew a gentle puff of air against it, stared at the woman for a moment, then went back to eating. “See?” Cole smiled. “She likes you. You could ride one.”

 

“N-no, I, uh… I haven’t, uh…”

 

He tilted his head. “You haven’t ridden anything, ever. Don’t worry. As long as you’re careful, you won’t fall. Talk with the horsemaster. He can find you a gentle one that won’t throw you.” 

 

She didn’t look entirely reassured.

 

“You could be a warrior, too. Rage burning inside as the village burns. People are cut down. Why? Why can’t I do anything to help? I want to protect my friends, too. I want to be like my big brother and be a soldier.” He nodded. “You can do it.”

 

“But… But Papa-”

 

“You can do it. Do not be afraid.”

 

When the young woman blinked, Cole was gone. She glanced around with confusion. She could have sworn she’d just been talking to someone. She looked back at Ghilana in her stall and her gazed hardened. Papa couldn’t control her life forever. She knew he just wanted to keep his little girl safe, but she didn’t want to just hide behind the walls of Skyhold and not help. She wanted to be on the other side, riding atop a hart proudly and wielding a sword and protecting the little people. She turned on heel and marched off, determined to go and talk to someone with authority in the army forces. Cole watched after her from afar, his gentle smile pulling his lips upwards.


	29. United

_ Now, with the support of both Orlais and Fereldan after saving the Empress, Celene, from certain death, the Inquisitor had succeeded in bringing two unlikely allies in Thedas together, multiple nations united in one common goal. The next step would likely be one of the hardest yet- _

 

“What are you working on, Varric?” Ena asked, curiosity evident. She leaned over towards him with a pondering expression, trying to peek at his paper.

 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted, flipping the parchment over. “No one gets to read it until it’s finished. I’m working on my draft for your story, fearless Inquisitor!”

 

Varric could see, even in the dancing shadows cast by the fire at his back, that Ena paled. “You… What?  _ My _ story?”

 

“Of course!” He raised his hands. “No one will probably buy it, because it’s so unbelievable, but hey. History isn’t always kind to its subjects, so it’s best when someone who actually knows you is in control of the quill, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“I...suppose when you put it that way…” Ena shrugged. “But still… People buying books with a Dalish elf as the protagonist?”

 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re the Herald of Andraste and the Inquisitor.” Varric pulled out a chair beside him, encouraging Ena to sit with him. As she did, he said gruffly, “Look, Zinnia, the fact of the matter is, things won’t ever get better for elves unless opportunities like this are taken. Sure, plenty of people have read my books, so maybe they’ll pick this one up just because it has my name on it. I can shine you in a good light. Maybe people can even just start to think, ‘Hey. Elves aren’t so bad after all.’ Not to mention, if you wanted to tell me any details about actual Dalish life, I could describe that as well.”

 

She tapped the table thoughtfully. “That doesn’t seem like a bad idea. I still feel a little weird about...being in a book, though.”

 

“They’re already writing and singing songs about you! What makes a book so much different?”

 

“I don’t know!” Her cheeks colored slightly. “Just… I’m not used to so much attention. I still don’t like how much I’ve gotten since the Conclave. I’ve gotten better at hiding my discomfort, but not necessarily grown to like it or anything.”

 

“That’s good. You’re still humble and among us lowly folk,” he said jokingly.

 

She scoffed lightly at him. “Well… If you’re going to go through with this, do I get a signed copy?”

 

“Are you actually going to read it?”

 

“I promise to try?”

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “I know you can’t sit still long enough. Just read a chapter a night and you’ll get through it in no time. Sure, Zinnia. I’ll give you a signed copy.” He waved a finger at her. “Know how much that is worth. There would normally be screaming women stabbing at each other in line to even get close to me and my chest hair.”

 

“Whatever you say, Varric.”

 

With perfect timing, Cassandra had been passing by his table in the great hall and stopped just long enough to make a disgusted noise, roll her eyes, and continue on her way.


	30. Found

It was strange. Since the end of the last battle, Vivienne would occasionally smirk to herself...and it hadn’t slipped past Aravae. Everyone took time first to make sure that wounds were tended to and that no one was seriously injured. To Aravae’s surprise, it wasn’t she that spoke to Vivienne first, but Varric. “Something amusing?” he asked her.

 

“Hmm. Indeed,” she replied with her smirk. She stood up and dusted off her clothing. Taking hold of her staff, she spun in a graceful circle to look at Solas. “I’m sure you know exactly what you’re doing, Solas, but a word of advice?”

 

Solas nearly scoffed, his back to the Iron Lady. He peered over his shoulder with an arched eyebrow. “Oh, I look forward to this. Go ahead, Enchanter.”

 

“You set your coattails on fire with that last spell.”

 

Silence fell in the group, save for the usual collective trio of Bull, Dorian, and Varric, who sounded like they were choking on air, forcing themselves to contain a laugh. Without skipping a beat or sounding concerned, Solas said, “Perhaps what you perceived was merely a figment of the Fade.”

 

Aravae looked towards him, unable to hide her amused expression. Truly, the very bottom side of his coattails appeared singed, though she thought she hadn’t seen an enemy even get close to him. Could it be…?

 

Vivienne laughed softly, covering her mouth with the backside of her hand. Her eyes sparkled with delight. It was quite a rare sight. Normally, her smiles and laughs were reserved for intimidation purposes. “I would not claim your familiarity with the Fade, but I recognize fire when I see it, darling.”

 

Aravae caught a flash in Solas’ eyes - perhaps embarrassment. He turned his head away to finish packing things back into his bag. “It did go out eventually. It was not worth mentioning.”

 

“Not for you, perhaps.” Vivienne glanced towards Aravae. “What I found most amusing and endearing above all was that you, a proclaimed ancient elvhen god-”

 

“Only by others,” he interjected, though Vivienne paid him no mind.

 

“-set his coattails on fire because your eyes were so fixated on the rear of your beloved.”

 

Aravae felt her cheeks instantly flush as Bull, Dorian, and Varric burst out into full belly laughter. Solas remained facing away from them, but Aravae could also see the tint of red on the tips of his ears. She glanced down at her armor. Her rear was covered by the long coattail that went down to the backside of her knees. Then again, when she fought, she had a tendency to be a bit more physically involved than other mages. She twirled more than the others, who tended to have a more planted stance. So...he had been staring at her arse when she shifted in her movements? She didn’t even think she had much of one to begin with…

 

“Oh, this is  _ gold! _ ” Bull cackled. “I mean, Saar has an ass, but I doubt anyone other than Solas could get away with looking at it, so I try to-  _ ow! _ ” Bull jerked at Aravae sent a small bolt of lightning up his arm. “I was literally just about to say that I  _ don’t _ look at it! I’m just giving you a compliment- Fine. I’m shutting up.”

 

The glare Aravae bore went from Bull to the other two men, who swallowed their remaining laughter, though Dorian had to wipe away a couple of tears from the corners of his eyes. Vivienne laughed again and set a hand upon Aravae’s shoulders. “Oh, my dear, don’t be embarrassed by this.” She lowered her voice. “You should take this knowledge and use it.”

 

“U-use it?”

 

The twinkle in Vivienne’s eye made a small shiver run up Aravae’s spine. “Indeed. Come. Let’s leave these buffoons to taunt Solas and talk, shall we?”

 

Aravae sent Solas a sympathetic look as he made eye contact with her, but she couldn’t help but smile, then chuckle softly as her eyes landed on his burnt coattails again.


	31. Mask

Solas had not known what to even think that fateful day in the snow, just beneath a Fade rift, battling demons, when he caught a glimpse of that familiar, long, wavy, mahogany hair. For a moment, he merely thought he’d been going mad, grasping at straws for something familiar in this strange world he’d woken up in. She would have been the one person to give him a sense of comfort and of home, but since he’d run off and left her when he raised the Veil, he hadn’t been positive that she’d survived. He had wanted to take her with him, but he didn’t want to risk her safety, going against the Evanuris. If he had her there and she had been killed in front of him, he likely would have attempted to just kill all the other Evanuris, though he would have probably died in the process, achieving nothing.

 

She had been the first thing he’d thought of when he woke. For so long, he desired her. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, gaze into her eyes, feel her skin, taste her lips...but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t right and she wasn’t ready. He would have never forced her into doing anything she didn’t want. Not that anyone could force her to do something she didn’t want.

 

He could scarcely believe his eyes, but there was no mistaking that hair, that form, that staff, that aura… It was her. It was truly her.

 

Aravae.

 

She hadn’t spotted him. She’d rushed into the fray to protect the redheaded Dalish woman that was the prisoner and survivor of the Conclave explosion. It struck him as strange and confusing, but he didn’t have the time to ponder on it now. He needed to focus on the danger at present, which was figuring out if the mark on the prisoner’s hand would close the rift, as he’d predicted. Once the last demon was vanquished, he grabbed the hand crackling with magic and thrust it into the air with a fierce expression. When the rift shifted and sealed shut, he released the woman’s hand as she looked between him and her hand with concern.

 

Words began exchanging and as the panic settled down, Solas could feel Aravae’s eyes burning through him. He managed to glance at her sternly for a split second when all other eyes were directed elsewhere from him or her. He wanted her to wait. He knew she would understand. They couldn’t run the risk of revealing that they knew each other. Not yet. He wasn’t entirely sure of what kind of company they were in and...not to mention, he didn’t see anyone responding well to, “Hello there. We are ancient elvhen and I am the one who is the cause of what just happened.”

 

No. Best to hold off.

 

Still, his heart sung and his spirits lifted. How could he have doubted that Aravae, strong and resilient Aravae, may not have survived? Of course she would. She was one of the most stubborn people he’d ever known. Not to mention a talented mage, she had a powerful mind, she was beautiful…

 

_ No. _ This wasn’t the time for such thoughts. He took a deep breath and slid his mask back in place. It was time to play the game and he needed to keep up his part of the humble apostate. He would know soon enough what kind of role Aravae would play. He would speak with her later.

 

When he managed to calm down, that is.


End file.
